Dark of the Moon
by GW Katrina
Summary: Tommy Dawkins is having a bad reaction to a dog bite, and only one person know what it is. Slash. AU


Title: Dark of the Moon  
Author: GW Katrina  
Beta: Rebecca  
Rating: PG-13 for cussing  
Archive: Lists archives, anyone who wants it, my sites.  
Disclaimer: *laughs* I only wish I could own these guys  
Warning: AU!   
Summary: Tommy Dawkins is having a bad reaction to a dog bite, and   
only one person knows what it is.  
  
Dark of the Moon  
  
  
Growling, Tommy Dawkins slammed his locker shut. The tall boy leaned   
his head against the door, resisting the urge to bang his forehead   
against the metal. 

  
It had been one shitty day.  
  
First off, he'd gotten a lecture from his mother, who started   
spouting off about not getting into fights with his fellow students.   
She stubbornly ignored the fact that he wouldn't have to fight with   
the losers if they would just listen to what he told them. Were   
things like 'she's mine, touch her and die' really that hard to   
comprehend?  
  


Then, after he had finally escaped the nagging and gotten to school,   
the fawning started. While that wasn't too bad, the cologne the guys   
wore, and the perfume the girls seemed to bathe in was starting to   
irritate him. Why the hell did people have to wear that stuff? It   
just smelled bad. Too spicy, too strong. Just.... Just wrong.  
  


He didn't know why, but ever since his camping trip, strange things   
had been happening. First off had been the huge dog that had nipped   
him. Now sounds were louder, smells stronger, and he could smell   
everything, even when he didn't want to. Colors were brighter, and   
he could feel every stitch in his clothing.  
  


Once or twice, he noticed some really strange stuff.  
  


Like his ears would look pointy at a certain angle. Or his teeth   
would seem longer, sharper. And there was a strange desire to sink   
them into something that still moved.  
  
Little things. No biggie.  
  
In a corner of his mind, Tommy could hear a little voice shouting   
that he should be worried, but he was usually too pissed off about   
something to pay attention to it.  
  
Especially since it seemed to get quieter every day.  
  
Most of the day hadn't been too bad. His attitude this year had not   
encouraged people to displease him. Not after he had 'accidentally'   
broken the arm of someone he had gotten in a fight with.  
  
Of course, that fight was why he was here, denting his locker,   
instead of with the few people he didn't feel the need to hurt.  
  
The stupid principal had given him detention. Damn it, he was the   
best quarterback this pissant little school ever had, and they were   
giving him detention.  
  
Snarling again, Tommy lashed out, this time leaving a dent in the   
locker next to him. The loud 'bonk' noise it produced made him smile.  
  
"You know, I'm all for destroying school property, but would you   
mind not using my locker for target practice. I have a hard enough   
time with it anyway, without it being broken."  
  
Tommy jumped. Then, mad that someone had snuck up on him, he spun   
around, growling.  
  
In front of him stood another boy, about his age. He was dressed   
mostly in black, though his shirt had a large silver cross on it. He   
stared at Tommy, then ran a hand, wrapped in fingerless gloves,   
through his black hair, which was spiked everywhere. Cool eyes   
looked at him.  
  
Tommy's skin tingled, and everything seemed to turn up a notch.   
Before he realized what he was doing, Tommy had the Goth pinned   
against the wall, holding the boy off the floor with a hand around   
his throat.  
  
Icy blue eyes locked with green, and the black haired boy only   
looked at Tommy. There was an emptiness in his eyes that made   
something ache in the football player.  
  
Not liking the feeling at all, Tommy shook the smaller teen.  
  
It didn't work quite the way he planned.  
  
A cruel joy flickered in those eyes, and the pale teen   
smirked. "They think you're on drugs, you know."  
  
That caught Tommy's attention. "What?"  
  
"They think you're on steroids or something." The boy smiled, a   
small smile. Then his voice dropped, almost a whisper. "I know   
better than that."  
  
Before Tommy could react to that, a loud voice broke into the   
conversation.  
  
"May I ask just what you think you are doing to him, Mr. Dawkins?"  
  
A low rumble rolled out of Tommy, and he heard a chocked 'gurk'   
noise come from the boy he held. Muttering under his breath, he   
dropped his captive, racking his mind for a reasonable excuse. He   
didn't want another detention.  
  
"He was helping me with a scene," said the dark haired boy. "For my   
new play."  
  
The principal didn't look like he was going to believe that. "Are   
you sure about that, Mr. Dingle?"  
  
Tommy watched as the kid he had just slammed against the wall smiled.  
  
"But of course, sir. It's about a young man's journey as he   
discovers his place in a post war civilization, fighting for what he   
still believes is right. And there is an interesting sub-text   
running through the whole play that focuses on...."  
  
Holding up his hand, the principal blinked away his slightly glazed   
look. "All right, Mr. Dingle. I believe you." He turned to look at   
Tommy. "And you, Mr. Dawkins, I hope that the only time I see you   
with your hands on another student is when you are 'rehearsing.'"   
The wry tone told Tommy that he didn't buy a word of what was said.  
  
"I think it's time you left the grounds, now."  
  
With that, he headed back towards his office.  
  
Watching him until the door shut, Tommy turned to look for 'Mr.   
Dingle." The kid had impressed him.  
  
Tommy quickly discovered that he was alone.  
  
The other boy's scent lingered in the air, and Tommy took a deep   
breath.   
  
The scent was nice. He and Mr. Dingle would be meeting again.  
  
***  
  
Face lit by his computer screen, Merton looked far paler than   
normal, almost ghostly. The only color to him was his hair, and even   
that seemed washed out.  
  
With a sigh, he leaned back. So, he'd been right.  
  
Tommy Dawkins, star quarterback, and the most popular kid at school,   
was a werewolf.  
  
It certainly explained a few things.  
  
Merton was used to being ignored by everyone except a few bullies.   
Hell, he'd had a locker next to Tommy since he had come to this   
stupid school, and the other teen didn't even recognize him. And   
Merton was not an easy one to forget.  
  
When the dreams had started, he had used that fact to his advantage.   
He had seen little things, as the popular boy had gone from sweet to   
mean. While he was still popular, more people had come to fear Tommy   
Dawkins.  
  
Somthings could be explained by drugs. The attitude change, the new   
strength. Absently, Merton rubbed the bruises that were already dark   
on his neck.  
  
What wasn't explained by drugs, though, landed Tommy firmly into   
Merton's realm of expertise. Like the ears that grew pointed once in   
a while or the way Tommy's teeth would sharpen. Hell, when the   
principal had shown up, the other teen's eyes had flashed gold for a   
second.  
  
Definitely not drugs.  
  
Taking advantage of the distraction the principal had created by   
lecturing Tommy, Merton had slipped away. He desperately wanted to   
confront Tommy, but he could still feel the way Tommy's fingers had   
tightened around his throat. It had happened at the same time   
Tommy's eyes had flashed, so Merton was pretty sure it was an   
accident.  
  
Still, he didn't want to feel that helpless around Tommy again.  
  
His research provided him with the answer.  
  
***  
  
Snorting, he shut the book. He didn't know how some people got   
published. Especially when they wrote shitty dribble like the author   
he held in his hands.  
  
Before he could get any deeper into his mental rant, Merton heard   
footsteps. Looking up, he saw the guy he'd been waiting for.  
  
Tommy had stopped, head cocked to the side as he looked at Merton.   
Ignoring his instincts to get the hell out of Tommy's view, Merton   
instead stood and leaned against his locker.  
  
"Figured you'd be here. Heard you got into another fight. Break   
anything?"  
  
Green eyes flickered, just for the briefest second, to gold, and then a   
slow smile crossed Tommy's face. He nodded, and started forward   
again. "Yah, I did. His nose."  
  
Merton had heard it was one of the other football players Tommy had   
gotten into a fight with, and he had to suppress a smile. He thought   
that everyone on the damn team needed to have at least one bone   
broken off the field. After all, they had broken enough of his.  
  
Tommy reached his locker and took a minute to throw his backpack   
into it. Shutting the door, he smiled at Merton.  
  
Something in the smile made Merton nervous. Still, he knew about a   
weakness Tommy wasn't even aware of. And he could use that to his   
advantage.  
  
He returned Tommy's smile with his own feral grin.  
  
"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. Don't think of it like that. Think of it as   
how can we help each other?"  
  
Just like a few days before, Merton found himself pinned against the   
wall. This time, however, the hand was wrapped in his shirt, not   
around his neck, and his feet were still on the floor. Merton gave a   
mental wince as he saw a silk shirt fisted by.... Were Tommy's   
fingers tipped by claws?  
  
Well, fuck. Write off this shirt. And he really liked it, too.  
  
"What could you possibly have that I would want?" snarled Tommy.  
  
"Let me guess," Merton said, still calm. "Sometime, maybe right   
before school started, you got bit by some big ass dog, right? Now   
everything seems brighter, louder, and you can smell things that you   
didn't even knew existed."  
  
Tommy stared at him, and Merton thought he caught a glimpse of....   
Of.... Something. It wasn't there long enough for him to identify it.  
  
Then Merton found himself nose to nose, literally, with a very   
pissed Tommy. He stiffened as he was lifted slightly, leaving him on   
his tip toes and the lean body pressed him even harder against the   
wall.  
  
Strangely enough, that part didn't bother Merton too badly.  
  
"How the hell do you know that? Did you do this to me?"  
  
Merton couldn't help it. He laughed. That earned him a rather   
impressive string of curse words and a snarl.  
  
Meeting golden eyes, Merton went still. "If I could do this, Tommy,   
I'd have done it a long time ago. And you wouldn't have been the   
target." When clawed fingers wrapped loosely around his throat,   
Merton told Tommy what he thought.  
  
"You, Tommy Dawkins, are a werewolf."  
  
***  
  
After their run in, Tommy had done some research of his own.   
Basically, he went home and started looking through yearbooks. To   
his surprise, Merton J. Dingle had been the person next to him since   
third grade. How he could have forgotten that hair, Tommy had no   
idea.  
  
Now he had the kid pinned against the wall. Again. And he still   
smelled really, really good. Tommy had felt kind of sheepish when   
Merton had mentioned smells, and he realized he was sniffing the   
other boy.  
  
Then all of that was knocked out of his mind when Merton stated that   
he thought Tommy was a werewolf. There was a second of silence, as   
Tommy looked at Merton is disbelieve.  
  
"You," said Tommy, eyes boring into Merton's. "Are a nut job. A   
complete freak. Werewolves aren't real."   
  
The smell of blood sprung up, and Tommy realized that he was   
squeezing Merton's neck again.  
  
Then something flickered in Merton's eyes, and, quicker than Tommy   
thought the Goth could move, he had his hand up and around the wrist   
of the hand holding the pale throat.  
  
Tommy screamed.  
  
Jumping back, letting go of Merton as he did, Tommy clutched his   
arm. As soon as Merton had touched him, it felt like someone had   
slammed a red hot coal against his skin. Hitting the opposite wall,   
Tommy looked at his hand. On the top of the wrist, there was a large   
red spot, and a blister. It looked like someone really had burned   
him.  
  
Gold eyes shot up, and locked on Merton, who had a hand pressed   
against his neck. Tommy could see a few dark streaks, and realized   
that Merton was bleeding. The other boy's eyes were hard. "Silver,   
jackass. You are a fucking werewolf, and silver burns you. Now, if   
you want other info, come talk to me." A second later, and a card   
landed in front of Tommy. "If you do decide to come, knock on the   
basement door. I live down there."  
  
Tommy watched as Merton turned and left. With his arm still curled   
up against his body, he reached out with his good hand and picked up   
the card.  
  
"Damn little freak."  
  
***   
  
A week later, Tommy had almost totally forgotten about the little   
incident. He didn't see Merton any more, other than a few times in   
the halls, and the occasional scent, and he pushed what the Goth had   
told him out of his mind. Tommy had never been on for jewelry   
anyway, and he rarely came into contact with real silver, so it   
wasn't that big a deal to him. He decided Merton must have put   
something on the ring that made it burn. No big deal.  
  
Now, though, Tommy was wondering. As bad as the last few weeks had   
been, it was nothing like today. Everything was setting him off.   
People, noises, smells.   
  
Finally, he had just walked out of school. It was either that or   
hurt someone. Again.  
  
Finding a local park, he had stretched out on a hill, enjoying the   
sounds of nature, as well as the feel of the sun on his face.   
  
What was wrong with him?  
  
It was a question Tommy had kept himself from asking, until now. He   
knew that getting into fights wasn't like him. He had only been in a   
few during the entire time until senior year, and most of those had   
been with other players who had gotten mad about arrangements on the   
team. Even then, he hadn't actually hurt anyone. Normally they were   
shouting matches, and the occasional one that had gotten physical   
ended quickly when the others jumped in.  
  
This year, though, he had actually enjoyed getting into the fights.   
Enjoyed the sensation of flesh giving under his knuckles, the   
muffled 'crack' as something broke.   
  
And the way he had been acting around people. He had always been   
nice; he had overheard enough girls say that to know what they   
thought. Now.... Well, now, people were not meeting his eyes   
anymore. They looked everywhere but into his eyes, and he had the   
feeling that some people were changing their routines just so they   
wouldn't cross his path.  
  
He knew he wasn't on drugs. But the only other suggestion on what   
was going on came from that Merton kid, and he was just cracked.  
Merton.  
  
Tommy didn't know why, but he had recently started thinking about   
the other boy. More than he ever had since the kid had started at   
his school.   
  
He thought about how it had felt to hold that pale throat, to push   
that slim body against the wall. That had been fun. Merton might not   
look like it, but there was something interesting below those loose   
shirts he wore.  
  
And he smelt really, really good.  
  
Thinking about Merton, lying beneath a warm sun, and feeling more   
relaxed than he had in a while, Tommy fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
Blue eyes studied the flame, watching as it danced on the top of the   
black candle.  
  
It had been hard to get this candle, but the spell specifically   
required a candle made from the fat of a man murdered by a blade.   
That had taken him weeks to get, and he had to pay quite a bit for   
it. It was a good thing that his parents never actually looked at   
the bill when they paid his credit card. Sometimes, it was good to   
have parents that were gone a lot.  
  
Settling himself into a comfortable position, Merton closed his   
eyes. Reaching out, he mentally pulled together his strength. While   
he might not be the strongest person physically, Merton had a hell   
of a lot of power in other areas.  
  
As he took a breath to start the spell, a loud banging broke his   
concentration. Eyes shooting open, he growled. Rising, he walked   
over to the candle first, blowing out the flame. Then he carefully   
placed on the shelf that sat on the wall, and then headed towards   
the door.  
  
Opening it, he stopped, eyes wide, as he got his first look at his   
visitor.  
  
There stood Tommy Dawkins, fully wolfed out, covered in blood.  
  
***  
  
One minute, he had been looking at the clouds, sun bright. The next,   
he was crouched over a dead animal, the smell of blood everywhere,   
and the moon full in the sky.  
  
Then he was running.  
  
Somehow, he found himself at a door, and he slowly looked around.   
The address looked familiar, and it dawned on him that he was at   
Merton's place. He remembered what the Goth had told him, and slunk   
around the house until he found the only door that Merton could have   
been talking about. Padding down the steps, he hit the door, praying   
that Merton was the only one down there.  
  
Pausing, he listened as there was the sound of someone moving around   
inside. He heard an indistinct voice, then the door had swung open.   
There was Merton, a look of anger on his face. That look vanished   
when he saw who was at his door.  
  
Tommy almost whined as Merton stared at him, then he did yelp as a   
hand yanked him into the room.  
  
"It's after midnight, Tommy. Why the hell didn't you come earlier?"   
growled Merton as he pushed the confused werewolf towards the   
couch. "Sit down. I'll get you a towel."  
  
Still covered in the stink of drying blood, Tommy could still smell   
Merton. The other boy's scent was strong, and there was a strange   
scent mixed in with it. Something that made Tommy think of   
electricity. And the rest of the room was filled with unusual   
smells; some which made Tommy feel more comfortable, others that   
made him want to claw off his nose. One made him itch.  
  
Glancing around as Merton ran water in what Tommy assumed was a   
bathroom, he blinked. There were skulls and candles everywhere.   
Mixed in among them were jars filled with things Tommy couldn't   
identify. In one corner was the best entertainment center Tommy had   
seen outside of Circuit City, and in another was a huge computer   
setup. Absently, Tommy wondered how much Merton was worth.   
  
Behind him was a huge bed, covered in dark sheets, and in the middle   
of it sat a white snake. A big white snake. One that raised its head   
and looked at Tommy. The pair both sat where they were, staring at   
each other until Merton came out and handed Tommy a wet towel.  
  
As he wiped his face off with it, Tommy stumbled out his story.   
After he finished, Merton sighed.   
  
"Next time, maybe you should listen to me when I tell you stuff.   
Here." He handed Tommy a robe, which he took in his now clean   
hands. "I want you to go in there and take a shower. That will get   
the rest of the blood off, and I can wash your clothes so you don't   
have to walk through town naked." Merton smirked. "I don't think   
that's the image your dad wasn't projected."   
  
Resisting the urge to snarl at him, or to push him until the other   
boy realized who was in charge, Tommy merely did as he was told,   
stripping down in the middle of the room, then walking towards the   
bathroom. He paused, just for a second, as the sharp scent of lust   
filled the air. This, he decided, continuing towards the promised   
shower, was an interesting development.  
  
Half an hour later, Tommy was leaning over Merton's shoulder as the   
other boy pulled up page after page on the internet. "There is a   
wealth of information that you could get on your own, Tommy," Merton   
was telling him. "About ninety percent of what's on the internet is   
false, though, and you have to be careful about the stuff that is   
true." His eyes, which seemed silver in the light given off by the   
computer, looked at Tommy's reflection in the screen. "Some of the   
sites that have the most and the best info are run by hunters. They   
are usually looking for a were to hunt, and I don't want to lead   
them here."  
  
Now Merton pushed back from the computer. For a second, Tommy stayed   
where he was, and the two boys weren't more than an inch apart. The   
smell of lust filled the air again, and Tommy could have purred.  
  
Then Merton shuddered, just a little, and moved away. He waved at   
the books that lined a wall. "Then you have the old fashion way of   
research. Books. Lots of old, old books."   
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
That was what Tommy really wanted to know. He could see what he   
would be getting out of this deal. Protection and someone who knew   
what the hell this werewolf stuff meant. Someone who could help him   
learn how to control these ideas that were running through his head.  
But what would the class freak be getting out of it?  
  
Merton looked thoughtful. He sat on the bed, motioning for Tommy to   
take the couch. "I'm the freak, Tommy. The outcast. Not a bad place   
to be, except for a few things." He looked at Tommy, eyes back to   
being the pale blue they normally were. "I've assumed you've heard   
of the group called TnT?"  
  
Tommy nodded. Those two idiots were famous. Especially for pounding   
on freshmen and stuffing them in lockers.  
  
What morons.  
  
"Well, I'm the only senior they target." Even though his voice was   
steady, Tommy could hear the hate Merton's voice carried. "I'm tired   
of it. And, as I don't want to go down as one of the nuts who snap   
and mow down their classmates, I have a deal for you."  
  
Tommy, who still hadn't taken a seat, ignored Merton's attempts to   
get him to sit on the couch, and sat down next to him on the bed. He   
had a good idea of where this was going.  
  
"Let me guess," he said, leaning forward until the pair were once   
again breathing the same air. The last time, Tommy had Merton pinned   
to the wall, but, even now, the smaller boy wasn't leaning away. The   
lust smell was an almost constant scent in the air, now. "You will   
help me learn this, and I give you protection from the morons." He   
eyed Merton. "That doesn't seem right. You've only got a year left,   
and I'm sure you can avoid them fairly well. So what else do you   
want?"  
  
There was a feral smile on Merton's face. "I knew you weren't   
stupid, Tommy. Stubborn, but not stupid. Most people wouldn't have   
figured that out." He met Tommy's eyes. "I want to be one."  
  
One what? Stupid he might not be, but Tommy knew that Merton was   
ages past him when it came to smarts. Then he realized. His lips   
also turned upwards, exposing his fangs. "So, you want to be a wolf,   
hmm? How would I do that?"  
  
Eyeing Tommy's fangs, Merton reached out and lightly ran his finger   
along one, earning himself a shiver. Hmm. Fangs must be extremely   
sensitive. He could see Tommy's eyes dilate when he ran his   
fingertip along the white surface of the tooth. "It's all in the   
bite, Tommy. You became one because of a bite, and you, in theory,   
should be able to make others into weres as well with your own bite."  
  
Grinning even harder, Tommy leaned closer to Merton. "So, you want   
me to bite you?"  
  
Merton shivered again. "Not right now. One out of control wolf is   
all we need at a time. After we get you in control of your own   
instincts and reactions, well...." Merton's smile was enough to send   
a shiver running down Tommy's spine.  
  
Pausing, Tommy thought over the deal. In exchange for the knowledge,   
he'd protect Merton and, later on, get a.... A what? Pack? That   
sounded right. Suddenly, the fact that Merton would be one of his   
pack made every hair on Tommy's body stand on end in anticipation.   
  
Ooh, he couldn't wait.  
  
Looking at Merton, the werewolf smiled. "Deal. Let's seal it with a   
kiss." Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against Merton's,   
careful not to cut him with his fangs.  
  
For a split second, Merton struggled, then relaxed. When Tommy   
pushed the now unresisting boy down on the bed, a single thought ran   
through his mind.  
  
Life was good.  
  
The End


End file.
